“So, how do you keep pulling System related knowledge out of your hat?” Gideon asked with slight snark. While it seemed out of left field, Arthur knew it was just good natured ribbing, and he smiled.
“Just wait until I pull a rabbit out of that hat, too.” He responded. Gideon chuckled, but an iota of seriousness entered his tone. “What are you really after?”
“Hm?”
“All this helping for no more reason than you can… I don’t buy it. I may have known you before all of this, but I didn’t know you well. Don’t get me wrong, I am eminently grateful, but I’d rather know if you have an ulterior motive now so that we can work together rather than the rest of us stumbling around in the dark.”
“Is it really so hard to believe?”
“I like you, Arthur. That being said, I also find it hard to trust people who say they want to help simply because ‘they want to’. What do you have to gain from helping us? Is it some other System related secret?”
Arthur frowned. “I can understand that, I suppose. I don’t think I need a reason to be who I am, though. People do all sorts of things for no discernible reason, just being themselves. You could think of it like that, I suppose.”
Gideon took another bite of his grilled corn, nodding. “…Okay. I should apologize for questioning you like that but… I feel responsible for these people. It’s my responsibility to keep them safe and I’ve failed many times already.” They fell into a silence.
“Do… you think it’ll really be the final battle tomorrow?” Arthur asked, uncertainty in his tone.
“You were the one who brought it up! Don’t get cold feet now or I’ll start getting nervous.”
Arthur smiled. “I mean, do you think when… if we win, there’ll be less fighting? If so many forces are focused here, there might be less resistance between us and this mysterious safe zone.”
Gideon finished off his cob of corn like a typewriter finishing off a line of text. Afterwards, he looked at Arthur. “I don’t know. For all we know, this was just a paltry force compared to all the rest. Maybe it isn’t, and we killed damn near the entire force connected to this ‘Raid Party’, whatever they are.” He wiped the grease from his mouth and hands with a dirty towel. “But no matter what, the battles won’t end here. Even if the fights do. Because if that mysterious safe zone has sufficient amounts of people, there is almost definitely a political atmosphere forming. It may have even already established itself.”
Arthur’s face scrunched in naked disgust. “I don’t like the sound of that. I hate politics.”
Gideon laughed. “I don’t blame you, but I can tolerate it. My family made sure of that. I just don’t like being forced to participate myself.” He had a smile plastered on, but Arthur could feel the venom beneath the words, as if he were a snake waiting for a hand to so much as try grabbing him.
Arthur wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so he went with the simplest option. “Are… you alright?”
“Yeah, don’t worry about me. It’s an old, well healed thing.” He leaned back, as though getting ready to take a nap. “I’ll be frank, Arthur. I’m not entirely sure how much we can trust you as things are right now. Maybe you really are here to help for no other reason than you want to, and I hope you are. But if you aren’t, I’d rather be ready than unfortunately primed for a nasty surprise. Capisce?”
Arthur nodded. “That’s fair. I admire your tact.” Gideon yawned. “Thanks. I’m gonna catch some sleep before we all die. Wake me up if something happens.”
Arthur chuckled. “Sure, sure.”
It wasn’t long before Gideon’s snores blasted from his still open mouth like chain eruptions from a volcano.
“W-Wait, no…!” The man’s last coherent words devolved to gurgling shrieks of fear and pain as the greatlance, Mercy’s Kiss, burst through his chest and out his back. The following explosion of blood mostly came from his back, but a goodly amount still splashed against Mira Seigan’s grimacing face. Her Skillweave had been modified, no longer hanging down in a side open dress-like fashion. It now looked more like a fitted and short surcoat, and she also sported what looked like silver chainmail underneath. She had simple black leggings and knee-high boots, though most of her finery was now soiled. As the coppery taste alighted on her lips and painted her porcelain face, she neither recoiled nor flinched.
During The Quine, it was an occasional practice to “recruit” the inhabitants of whatever planet that was under siege. Most of the time, these recruits were deceived into working with the invaders via ultimatum; they would join the invasion force, or die. With most inhabitants ignorant of what The Quine was and its goals, the most desperate of them would jump at the chance. Their ignorance regarding the true purpose of The Quine led them straight to their deaths, as many who accepted this deal would often be slaughtered once all the waves were over. This wouldn’t always be the case, however, as outstanding individuals would be preserved and assimilated into the various factions that made use of The Quine. The human currently impaled on the end of Mira’s lance was not one of these individuals.
With a swift shift of her grip, she swung the man to the left, crushing an oncoming enemy with her impromptu club. The sound of crunching bone and screams pierced the eve.
“Oh… what a nice sound.” A young man bent down over the pile of meat, now free from Mira’s lance. His black hair was short and greasy, his uncomfortably wide and wet eyes running over the macabre scene with an almost innocent allure. His voice was soft, almost inaudible if not for an offputting reverb in his voice. He swabbed a single finger over the man’s blood soaked chest, bones protruding and exposed organs pulsating as he heaved his last breaths. The young man popped his finger into his mouth with a content, even delighted hum as though he were taste-testing a meringue. “Mm… succulent.”
[Succulence]: The amount of death that has occurred in the area. The more [Succulence] in the area, the more potent the [Ardent Horror] skills are.
“You’ve outdone yourself with this one, Ms. Seigan,” the teenage boy patted his hand on the still gaping wound of the dying man, almost like a child petting their dog. The wound spattered blood about as he did. “You were right. The hole they’re hiding in is that big fissure in the forest.” He said, sucking the blood from his fingers.
[Gored Tapestry]: Allows the user to gain information by tasting blood or other innards. Limits apply.
Mira showed no reaction, but a shorter woman with light brown skin and rich, dark brown hair cringed in disgust from a moderate distance away. As they were in active combat, she ignored Danny’s sickening inclinations as she aimed her gigantic ballista crossbow at the next enemy near the duo.
[Auto Lock]: Fix your crossbow sights on an ally or enemy target that you can see. No cooldown. Able to use [Switch Lock].
- [Switch Lock]: Switch ally or enemy targets that you can see. No cooldown.
The enemies that the trio was attacking were a strike group carrying out raids on the scavenging runs sent out by Asylum, the temporary name of the survivor’s refuge turned post-apocalyptic “city”. The city had already devised farming solutions to improve food concerns, but scavenging runs were still sent out regularly for medicine, clothing, or even more varieties for food. The city was fortunate enough to have been founded near a new lake created after the conquer, a huge, deep crater that was now filled with freshwater. Though the lake had no outlet, it was inexplicably safe to consume while also being home for many varieties of marine life. The intricacies of magic were still a mystery, but they, regardless, took full advantage of the lake’s many resources.
The group was made up of monsters and suborned humans both, emaciated jackal-like beasts with horns and hooked claws. As one approached Mira, it was blasted back, a large ballista bolt impaling it like a kebab. As her shot landed, she used one of her first skills she obtained.
[Reload]: Conjure [Behemoth Bolts], [Combustion Bolts], or [Tactical Bolts] into your [Bolt Belt].
- [Bolt Belt]: Holds your ammunition for your Ballista Crossbow. Able to hold several types of bolts, but unable to change the order once loaded into the belt.
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
- Belt Capacity: 50
Sofiya Aguilar was one of Mira’s close friends, and one of the women who was with her on their night out before the System arrived. When Mira and Arthur had parted ways, she had found one of the scavenging groups mentioned before rather quickly. Joining their convoy, Mira had made it to Asylum within only hours as part of that scavenging group had access to transportation skills. Before that, she’d already made it to her parents’ home, finding them dead. Afterwards, she’d found Sofiya in the city, but her other friend was still missing.
Danny was another matter, entirely. Neither Mira nor Sofiya knew him previously, or anyone else for that matter. No one had known him before or after the System, as though he’d come from nowhere. Mira was the only one who tolerated his… peculiar tendencies, as she cared only for effectiveness beyond individuals she favored. An effectiveness the repulsive man demonstrated, as his varied undead charged.
[Basic Undead]: Raise a certain number of [Lesser Undead] dependant upon current [Desecration Magnitude] and how much [Succulence] that permeates the area.
Possible Undead summons:
[Skeleton]: A weak undead. Low HP, low Stamina, no Mana. Uses basic weapons. Common summon.
[Ghast]: Ghostly apparition that freezes enemies. Low HP, no Stamina, moderate Mana. Uncommon summon.
[Draugr]: A slightly stronger zombie. Moderate HP, moderate Stamina, no Mana. Uses heavy weapons. Rare summon.
[Moderate Undead]: Raise a certain number of [Moderate Undead] dependant upon current [Desecration Magnitude] and how much [Succulence] that permeates the area.
Possible Undead summons:
[Zombie]: A basic Undead, neither strong nor weak. High HP, low Stamina, no Mana. Does not use weapons. Common summon.
[Skeleton Champion]: A vastly stronger [Skeleton]. Moderate HP, high Stamina, no Mana. Uses heavy weapons, sometimes with shields. Uncommon summon.
[Revenant]: A powerful Undead. High HP, high Stamina, moderate Mana. Uses a single, frozen longsword. Has magic related to cold and death. Rare summon.
The amount of undead that Danny was allowed to employ was decided by his Desecration Magnitude. He was currently allowed seven, and all of them charged the remaining enemies, focusing on the humans in the group.
While his horde did the killing for him, it was his job to send them where they needed to go, who they needed to attack, and when. A necromancer leaving their horde to run wild as they pleased was an amateur’s dogma, and while he had done so in the beginning, he would no longer be so passive in his enemies suffering.
As an Ardent Horror, Danny had several ways to empower his undead horde.
[Grotesque General]: All Undead in your army gain bonuses dependant upon your current [Disfigurement], with the potency dependant upon the amount of [Succulence] that permeates the area.
[Disfigurement]: The current method of which you empower your army.
[Flesh]: Enhances the base HP of your army.
[Tendon]: Enhances the base Stamina of your army.
[Brain]: Enhances the base Mana of your army.
[Bone]: Enhances the base damage reduction of your army.
[Muscle]: Enhances the base damage of your army.
While he would be prepared to switch Disfigurements whenever the purpose called for it, there was no need with such weak enemies as he faced now. He kept his sweethearts with the Muscle Disfigurement for now.
As most of the suborned humans hadn’t leveled up, they were normal people fighting against nightmare monstrosities. The result was predictable; a draugr and a zombie gorging themselves on fallen humans, and a group of skeletons with a skeleton champion stabbing weapons with unreleased rage into enemies that were already dead. Danny would have already sent them off to find new prey if he wasn’t watching the scene like a child at Christmas.
The jackal-like beasts charged Mira all at once, only to crash into each other as she vaulted into the air. Soon after she did, a rain of Sofiya’s Combustion Bolts landed on the group like artillery fire.
[Staccato Burst]: Fire repeated bolts in a rhythmic burst. Sustainable skill. Mounting mana cost as skill uptime continues. 10% mana gain per hit. No cooldown.
- 1 shot per 1.5 second(s): Low mana cost. Low mana cost mounting.
- 1 shot per 1 second(s): Moderate mana cost. Low mana cost mounting.
- 1 shot per 0.5 second(s): High mana cost. Moderate mana cost mounting.
Sofiya’s class was called the Breacher. It was rare for a ranged class in that its main stat was strength, though its low actual rarity belied that uncommon trait. It was her highest stat, and it wasn’t even close, being even higher than Mira's when they were the same level. This meant that her other stats were pathetically low, but such was acceptable for her.
Another way the Breacher was peculiar compared to other classes is that it actually encouraged repeated skill usage. Staccato Burst was a sustainable skill that had no cooldown, as well as granting mana recovery per hit. It had three speeds at which it could fire bolts from her Bolt Belt, and as the firing speed got higher, the mana efficiency degraded. As long as she actually hit things, she could keep the first mode active indefinitely, making her a constant fount of damage. She demonstrated as much as her Combustion Bolt filled Bolt Belt rained on the enemies in Staccato Burst’s third gear, turning her ballista crossbow into a machine gun that shot fiery spears.
[Behemoth Bolt]: A giant crossbow bolt. Does high amounts of physical damage and ignores a fixed amount of DEF.
A: Normal Shot: 30% DEF penetration.
B: Critical shot: 65% DEF penetration.
[Combustion Bolt]: Causes enemies struck to suffer fire damage. If struck 15 times, causes target to explode.
[Tactical Bolt]: Utility bolt that does less damage than the other ammunition types, but gives various buffs and debuffs depending on several factors.
While she didn’t hit a single target enough to cause them to explode, being set on fire while impaled with an enormous ballista bolt was generally a safe bet to deal damage. When Mira alighted on the ground again, she hardly had to do anything as a gentle breeze would have finished them off at that point. She didn’t let that hold her back, however, as her greatlance ripped through them one after another.
By the time they were done, there was only one human left. Mira approached him, and he fell onto his back, trying to get away. Her face was doused in wet, sticky blood and shrouded by shadows, her gait slow and menacing. The blade of Mercy’s Kiss glowed and steamed the blinding white of Bright magic as he shuffled back in a panic. He looked up at her with tears in his eyes, wide and fearful.
“P-…Please…!” the man whimpered as he shuffled back against a rock, continuing to push against it as though he could slip under it for safety. Mira narrowed her eyes. She wondered if the same people these traitors slaughtered from the previous scavenging group had asked the same thing.
She lifted her lance with both hands, and as the man screamed, she plunged it down into his gut. Yet another gout of blood painted her anew as he flailed on the end of her blade like a fish on a harpoon, and with a savage grimace, she pushed it in deeper as the man was consumed with light.
[Light Eruption]: Causes all inflicted with [Lightburned] to explode with a burst of Bright magic. [Light Eruption] will hit all enemies within 5 meters, while passing harmlessly over allies. Enemies struck with area of effect of [Light Eruption] have a 50% chance to contract [Lightburned].
The man exploded with a cleansing light, the white fire passing Mira as though she were immune to its heat. The man’s screams turned to gurgling and wild, pained cries that could hardly be recognized as human. The smell of burning flesh filled the air as she yanked her lance free, and turned away to leave as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. While her friend looked on with sad acceptance, Danny looked on with smitten disbelief.
While there were Miscellaneous Skills for cleaning that would allow her to clean herself and her clothes much easier, no one in their party possessed it. The Eradication faction had decided their strike group should only consist of combat type classes, to both reduce the likelihood of casualties and to reallocate that manpower elsewhere. As a result, she was left bathing and washing her clothes using an old-school bathtub with barrels of hot water she’d put in her Vault for whenever she wasn’t in the city. She was glad that she had such high weight tolerance that her Vault could handle it.
The night sky’s countless stars shined down on her through the collapsed ceiling of the destroyed building she’d claimed. She leaned back, thinking about the battle from earlier that day. Sofiya had played her part well, but Daniel had become distracted… again. She was wondering if she shouldn’t have taken him in her party after all, but his undead were a powerful force, especially considering the way he deployed them. She sighed, thinking about how she could’ve done better. Inevitably, her thoughts turned to him.
If he had been there, the fight would’ve been easier. That was not a possibility or an opinion; it was a simple fact. He would’ve Enraged the lot of them with… what was it called… Challenging Moxie? Then, as they all attacked his shield, she would’ve swept through them all like a breeze. It would’ve been over like that, but instead, they had to make plans, sneak around, then surprise their targets with an ambush. They were all offensive class users, with the exception of Mira having healing capabilities.
Asylum had already begun developing its own culture, although it was very bare bones. Something that had taken hold was a certain disdain for tank-type classes, as they were viewed as some of the most useless. In a video game, tanks were important to take the damage of hordes upon hordes of enemies with their vast health pools. In this new world, however, damage dealers could get the job done with enough healing stacked onto them. They could dodge, block and deflect with their weapons, as a video game wouldn’t allow such versatility as found in real life. No matter how skilled you were, you would eventually get hit, but with enough healing, most damage dealers could absorb the blows. All they would need is at least a moderate amount of vitality or defense. The only tank-type that wasn’t actively looked down on was the famed Fredrick Marlowe, one of The Immortals.
The most disdained of the tank classes were knights. Splitting their capabilities between damage and defense, they were the worst of both worlds. They did less damage than other damage dealing classes, weren’t as robust as other tank-type classes, and were as slow as or even slower than the latter as well. The only good thing knights had going for them was the Templar Knight branch of the class, which allowed knights to gain magical attacks. They would be one of the few classes that was both tanky and could deal at least acceptable magical damage, while also still dealing physical damage. Templar Knights were heavily employed by the first religious faction to have risen up since the System.
Because of these prejudices, the need for a tank-type class was overlooked. Mira didn’t particularly care about it, but the thought had been brought up by the first tank-type class user she’d met. She wondered where he was, and if he’d be put upon by Asylum’s view on knights. She sighed, looking up at the night sky again. “Just what are you up to…?”
She closed her eyes when she realized the stars in the sky weren’t as bright as his pools of radiant green.